


That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates

by Andalusa93



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Bilbo is So Done, Christmas Fluff, F/M, M/M, Minor Kíli/Tauriel, Post-Canon Fix-It, Thorin is a little shit, but he would so do this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:39:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5428259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Andalusa93/pseuds/Andalusa93
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A bit of last minute holiday fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's What Bilbo Baggins Hates

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Zauberwald](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zauberwald/gifts).



It felt like the world was asleep. In the valley between Erebor and Dale there was no trace of activity, the only evidence of life in this northern most corner of Rhovanion were the braziers on the external walls of each city. Despite the best efforts of the inclement weather, the fires burned brightly through the seemingly permanent mist. Snow gathered in deep drifts against rocks and fences and young trees;occasionally a slight breeze would disturb the perfect landscape, kicking the settled flakes into small flurries. 

Erebor was hive of activity, while some Dwarrows worried about the state of the fields and livestock come spring, most were content to go about their lives in relative normality. No one knew when the air would warm up or the ground would begin to thaw, but it wasn’t at the forefront of anyone’s mind. They had food stores that would last for many months without the need for rationing, the animals had been divided between the Dwarves of Erebor and the Men of Dale, the only thing many people could complain about was the enforced confinement. 

Dwarves are a hardy race, an excursion into the outside world as it was wouldn’t bring them any harm, but there was no need to send anyone out, besides, it was fast approaching the Dwarven midwinter celebration, seven days of festivities and merrymaking, giving gifts and pageantry, many took this opportunity to complete their preparation for the holiday.

Thankfully, the Dwarven festival wasn’t too different from the one in the Shire, so Bilbo found himself rather busy during this period. Many of his Hobbit-ish dishes had become staples to the many feasts held throughout the week.While he was happy to share most of the recipes with his Dwarrow kin, some he still kept secret. So between various meetings and other commitments, Bilbo spent a lot of time in the kitchens making sure a marinade or curing process was progressing as it should. 

Thorin had more free time than in previous years, while he still held court and dealt with paperwork and messages delivered by the Ravens, the lack of visitors from neighbouring Kingdoms meant his Kingly duties had dwindled. At first he didn’t quite know what to do with himself, but Thorin soon found that this time allowed him to indulge in many activities he would otherwise have foregone. 

One he particularly enjoyed was playing his harp, it had been many long months since he last had any chance to play it at length. It was a fine way to spend a winter evening, he decided, Bilbo sat by the fire with his nose buried in a book while Thorin’s fingers plucked out a soft melody nearby. On one such evening their private concert was interrupted by Bilbo’s laughter. Thorin looked up to see his husband’s eyes locked on him. 

“What is it?” He asked, his fingers stilled and the music faded. 

Bilbo didn’t reply, but countered with “Who taught you that song?” 

“Which song?”

“The one you were just playing.” And Bilbo quickly hummed the tune.

“Every Dwarf knows it.” Thorin said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Every Dwarf?” The Hobbit echoed and sat back in his chair. 

“Yes.” Thorin peered at Bilbo, idly running his fingers over the strings of his harp again. “How do _you_ know it?”

“Your blasted company sang it as they almost destroyed my mother’s dishes!” 

It was Thorin’s turn to laugh now, he didn’t even attempt to hide it, and when Bilbo huffed he only laughed louder. 

“Really?” Bilbo sighed to no one in particular. 

“The tune of that song is known by all Dwarves.” Thorin explained, his shoulders still shook with silent laughter and a wide smile graced his lips. “It is one we learn early on and change the words so it fits the situation, I recall making several different variations for my brother and sister.”

“That doesn’t make it any less rude!” Bilbo insisted and he turned back to his book, fully intent on ignoring Thorin for as long as possible before they were due to make an appearance at the First Feast.

Several minutes passed in silence, Thorin eventually started playing again, it took a few bars for Bilbo to recognise the tune and when he did he closed his book with a snap and glared at his husband. The tempo was slow, but the drawn out melody was there. 

“You are the least funny Dwarf in this Mountain, Thorin.” The Hobbit muttered. 

Thorin hummed along with the song, he grinned at Bilbo and continued to pluck away at the strings. “Sing it to me.” He said.

“What?”

“Sing me the song.” Thorin repeated.

“You expect me to remember the words?” Bilbo asked.

Thorin nodded, “I know you do.”

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose, of course he remembered the words, he sang the song under his breath as he cleaned up after himself in the kitchens enough times. Still, he shook his head and made a show of searching for his place in his book in order to resume ignoring Thorin. 

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, he almost sang the word, “you know I will just go and ask Bofur if you do not tell me.” 

“Go ahead!” 

-

“Oh, my word!” Bilbo didn’t even apologise as he pushed his plate into Kili’s hand and dashed away.

Kili looked down at the newly acquired food then searched through the crowd for Bilbo with a very confused look on his face. “What d’you reckon that was all about?” He asked Tauriel.

The Elf in question was also busy scanning the room for the Hobbit. “It looks like he’s trying to reach your Uncle.” Tauriel shrugged. “I am sure it’s nothing too serious.”

“A Hobbit would never abandon his food.” Kili said gravely, he looked between the two plates he was holding for a moment, sniffed once and then tipped the contents of Bilbo’s plate onto his own. He placed the empty plate on a nearby table and used his now free hand to resume eating. 

Tauriel chuckled and took a sip of her wine, her eyes still followed Bilbo as he approached Thorin, who had just turned away from Bofur. 

-

Thorin withstood the earful Bilbo gave him after Bofur departed in solemn silence, at least it would have been were it not for the way his lips twitched and threatened to turn into a grin every now and then. The King and his Consort left the feast soon after that little debacle. 

“You aren’t even sorry, are you?” Bilbo asked when they got back to their room. 

“I merely asked Bofur if he would be performing at any of the festivities.” Thorin insisted. “Besides, you said I could ask if I wanted.”

“I wasn’t being serious-” 

“Bilbo…”

“-honestly, you are the most exasperating-”

“Bilbo…”

“What?”

“Come here.” Thorin said, he walked over to his husband and enveloped him in a hug.

“Oh, no, don’t you dare try and-”

Thorin interrupted the start of yet another speech with a kiss. “You talk too much.” He stated when he pulled away. 

“Shut up.” Bilbo snapped and pulled him down for a second kiss.

-

It was the final night of the winter festivities, the feasts had become more and more lavish as the week progressed, but Bilbo found himself wanting to leave earlier with each passing day. They hadn’t even been at this particular function for an hour when Bilbo indicated to Thorin that he wished to depart. They made their way back to their suite hand in hand and Bilbo felt rather giddy, although they had already exchanged gifts, they each had a final one to give to the other. 

Bilbo had spent a long time preparing this gift for Thorin. It wasn’t even meant to be a present when he started it, but it was finally finished. Or as finished as it would ever be. When they reached their rooms, Bilbo went to fetch the parcel from his bedside cabinet and when he returned to the living area he found Thorin sat at his harp. 

“May I present my gift first?” The Dwarf asked. 

Bilbo nodded and took a seat in his armchair by the fire, he smiled softly when Thorin began to play. It was a soft song, deep notes thrummed to accompany the lilting tune of the higher melody. The tempo increased gradually as the piece went on. Bilbo’s smile vanished rather quickly when Thorin started singing and the song changed entirely. 

“Blunt the kni-”

“You!” 

Bilbo couldn’t find any words beyond that, not that Thorin would have heard them over his laughter.


End file.
